


Trying Too Hard

by VioletThePorama



Series: Lucky Duck [3]
Category: DuckTales (Cartoon 2017)
Genre: Difficult Decisions, Fethry is mentioned, Gen, Gladstone Gander is trying his best, Light Angst, Louie Duck Needs a Hug, Louie inherits Gladstone's luck, Louie's luck, Scrooge is trying his best, You should probably read the other fics first
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-29
Updated: 2020-07-06
Packaged: 2021-02-27 20:55:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,878
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22469743
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VioletThePorama/pseuds/VioletThePorama
Summary: Louie has told his family about his manifesting luck, and it went great! Or, it did. Unfortunately, things don't always continue to go well.I recommend reading the other fics in the series first.
Series: Lucky Duck [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1582435
Comments: 25
Kudos: 205





	1. Calling Gladstone

Louie sat down and watched as his mom and Uncle Donald took seats around the table, both of them trying not to look at or pressure him too much. Calling Uncle Gladstone had been an idea that his mom had suggested, based on trying to figure out how, or  _ if _ he could control his newly found luck.

He had originally protested against the idea, and was quite certain that he couldn’t control it, based on what he had seen before, and from what Lena had told him.

Besides, his family had accepted his luck. Initially, at least. After he had first told them, things went back to normal, and it was fine.

But Uncle Scrooge, rather than dropping it entirely like his siblings had, passive aggressively brought it up whenever he saw Louie. The old miser left a phone number in Louie’s usually seat at the table, and when Louie looked it up, he was brought to a shady-looking and poorly set-up website claiming that a witch could reverse curses. 

And on the next adventure they were on, Uncle scrooge called Louie up to check out the trap, rather than Dewey or Webby who were usually the most excited and willing to seek action, or even Huey, who was the smartest and quickest at figuring them out. It was  _ Louie _ who was sent out first, and stood next to Scrooge as they checked out some ancient puzzle. 

Uncle Scrooge had stepped back, and gave Louie free reign over matching the tiles. The duckling tried moving the tiles in the right order, but no matter what he did, or how he shifted them around, he kept getting the order of tiles wrong. After just a few times of trying and failing, the ground at the other side of the room began to cave in, and every time he got it wrong, more of it crumbled off into a bottomless pit. 

Finally, once Louie gave up and sat against the wall with his hood pulled up over his head, Huey stepped over and finished it in one try, opening the door to let them pass into the next room. 

Louie hadn’t missed the disappointed look Uncle Scrooge had given him, however brief, as they moved on.

His luck had failed, hence why the duckling had finally agreed to call his uncle.

“Louie?” Della asked, and he shook his head to clear his thoughts before he selected Uncle Gladstone’s number. 

On the second ring, his uncle picked up. “Hello? Is this about a prize.”

“It’s Louie,” the duckling offered, figuring that his uncle hadn’t looked at the called I.D.

“Oh! Green-bean,” Gladstone greeted. “How’re things? You know, I’m actually between airports right now. How lucky of you to get me free.”

“Yeah,” Louie agreed, tracing invisible designs on the table. “It’s really lucky of me.”

“... You feeling okay over there, kiddo?”

“I think so. Mom and Uncle Donald wanted me to call and talk to you about my luck,” the duckling told him, and his luckiest uncle hummed in response. “I told them that I can’t control it.”

“Well you can’t,” Gladstone agreed. Louie breathed out, some of the tension leaving his body. He  _ couldn’t _ control it. It wasn’t just him being difficult or anything. It was something  _ outside _ of his power. 

Louie continued after a moment of thought spurred on by his mom’s gaze landing on him, and Uncle Donald’s huff of annoyance, probably aimed at Gladstone in general. 

“Mom said that that  _ didn’t sound like what she remembered _ , or something like that.”

“She might remember wrong,” Uncle Gladstone said dismissively. “You can’t control it, but you can sort of predict, or at least  _ guess _ when it’s going to kick in.”

“That’s what I thought,” Louie nodded, and then looked at his mom. “He said I can’t control it.”

Della frowned and reached across the table. “Let me talk to him.”

Louie reluctantly handed over his phone after muttering a farewell to Uncle Gladstone. Uncle Donald gave the duckling a look, raising a brow. The duckling shrugged and got up.

“I’m gonna go see what the girls are doing,” Louie told them, and left the room. 

He stood outside the door for a moment, listening to Della rage over the phone about  _ remembering correctly _ , before moving on to let the adults talk. 

In his hoodie, burning a hole in his pocket, was the number that Scrooge had left him. Louie… had some thinking to do. 


	2. The Arcade

Before long, Dewey and Webby were roaring to go to Funzo’s. Dewey claimed that Louie could win all the prizes he wanted, while Huey corrected him and insisted that they could use the trip as an opportunity to study his luck in a new environment. Webby seemed more interested in utilizing the trip as a means to make more friends. 

Louie was sure that the only reason they hadn’t dragged him straight to Funzo’s after the last adventure was to let Dewey’s foot heal enough for his cast to be replaced with a boot he could at least hobble around on. 

So the group loaded onto an already packed bus and went to Funzo’s. Louie listened as Dewey and Webby happily chattered back and forth among the noise of other passengers, and watched as Huey scribbled things down into a notebook. 

“What’re you writing?” He asked eventually, and Huey turned to him with a grin. 

“I’ll be recording everything lucky that happens to you today!”

“But nothing lucky has happened yet.”

“On the contrary,” Huey announced. “You got us seats on a full bus just as other people got off. I’m counting it.”

_ Oh _ . Louie hadn’t really noticed that. He shrugged and grinned smugly. “All part of the plan.”

Once they arrived at the bus stop nearest Funzo’s, and walked the block to the arcade, Webby took off to scout out the ballpit, and the brothers beelined for the arcade section. 

Dewey pulled Louie over to an actual video game first. It was a levels based map about getting as much fruit in a basket as they could. Louie focused on the screen and played through a few rounds, getting a perfect score even as he was distracted by Dewey bringing drinks over. 

Before long, they tired of the game and collected their tickets before moving over to a claw machine. 

“Oh!” Dewey exclaimed and pointed to a stuffed ottoman, similar to the ones from Ottoman Empire. “Get me that one!”

“Sure,” Louie shrugged, taking a sip of his drink and haphazardly pushing the stick around in a direction. The claw picked up a pink elephant and dropped it in the box while Huey scribbled away next to him.

Dewey groaned, taking the toy out. “This isn’t an ottoman!”

“Hey, I can’t control it,” Louie teased. 

“You weren’t even trying!”

“But he still got one,” Huey countered. “He could always try again for the one you were wanting.”

“Fine,” Dewey huffed, and plopped another coin into the slot. Louie moved the crane over the ottoman with directions from Dewey, who stood at the side. The duckling furrowed his brow, and tried to focus on just the toy. “A little to the left- got it!”

Louie pressed the button and the claw delivered a blue octopus. 

“Come on,” Dewey sighed.

Louie grinned, but felt a little offset. He had actually been trying for that one. But he had still gotten one, like Huey said. “Guess we’ll just have to keep going.”

Dewey stuck out his tongue at Louie and hunkered down at the side of the machine to direct him, eye level with the toys. Huey noted each toy they got, the number of which grew larger and larger as they somehow got every single toy  _ around _ the ottoman Dewey wanted, rather than the desired prize. 

“Well,” Huey remarked, stepping around the pile of toys as he put his pencil into his hat and looked at them. “That’s all counted. Have you guys gotten it yet?”

“No,” Louie and Dewey snapped, a mixture of frustrated and disappointed. Dewey opened his mouth to begin another sentence before pausing as a little girl walked up. 

“Hey misters,” She said. “Can I have that rabbit?”

Huey stuttered something, paused, and looked at them. 

Louie paused in his work at the claw machine and looked at her, an idea sparking in his mind. “How many tickets do you have?”

“Thirty,” The girl replied, reaching out and brushing her hand along the fur of the toy. 

“Give us twenty and you can have the rabbit.”

“Really?” She grinned and fumbled with her tickets. Huey took them wordlessly before she ran off with the stuffed animal, and he shot Louie a look. Louie only shrugged in response and returned to trying to puzzle out the logic of his luck. 

Then a boy ran up asking about a stuffed Funzo mascot, which he also received for twenty tickets, once Dewey caught onto the scheme. And so on, with Louie adding to the pile as kids came up and took the plushies.

Of course, it was only a matter of time until one of the people working there took notice of their little operation. A dog dressed in a uniform walked closer and muttered into his walkie talkie. Dewey was the first one to split, turning and running before the others even noticed. 

“Where are you- oh! I knew we shouldn’t have been doing this,” Huey stressed as he spotted the guard. Louie snorted and grabbed his arm, dragging him away from the pile of toys as the dog took notice, and started after them. 

“Hey, kids!” The dog called gruffly, and Louie ducked behind a machine while Huey kept going. The guard passed as a girl with one of the stuffed toys pointed the guard in a direction. The duckling moved back towards another row of video games, only stopping when he bumped into somebody. 

“Ididn’tdoit!” Louie yelped instinctively, cowering away from who he thought was the worker, before relaxing when he saw it was just one of the older kids who hung out in the arcade part of Funzo’s. “Oh, I mean…”

The teen glanced him over, and looked through the row of video games. Then he looked back at Louie. “Weren’t you the kid winning all those prizes?” Came the gruff question. 

Louie blinked and nodded. “Uh, yeah. Just lucky, I guess.” He looked behind the teen, spotting two more playing a racing game. He prepared to be told to get lost, or to be outed to the dog who was looking for him and his brothers, but the teen just nodded, looking thoughtful. 

“You should come play some games with us,” He said, and Louie perked, any thoughts of his brothers long from his mind once he was offered the chance to hang out with older kids. 

“Sure,” He said, and followed the teen over to the two playing games. “I’m Louie.”

“Scott,” The first teen said, and gestured to the other two. “That’s Mark and Kenzie. This was the kid winning all those prizes over there.”

“Nice,” Kenzie said, throwing the fuckling a glance. “You up to play against whoever wins this round?”

“Eyes on the road,” Mark muttered. 

“I can sure try,” Louie said cooly, elated at the opportunity. So he watched as Kenzie beat Mark, and took Mark’s place in the next race. He wasn’t really sure about the characters, as it was one of the older versions of the game with poorer graphics, so he defaulted to a guy in a green car. And they raced. 

The controls were a bit confusing at first, but he quickly picked it up, getting boosts and items effortlessly. He turned the wheel at random times, a bit too overwhelmed to really focus at it in case he sucked, but before long, he was passing Kenzie without even trying. The girl muttered a curse when he knocked her car off the road.

“Nice,” Mark told him. “Use that boost- yeah.”

And Louie won. He turned to the teens, grinning. Kenzie looked a bit miffed, but Mark and Scott looked pleased at her defeat. “Should we play again?”

“Actually,” Scott said. “We were gonna win some tickets next. We’re saving up for the MarkBox they have up there. 

“But that’s like… three thousand tickets,” Louie said after a moment of recollection. It wasn’t nearly the most expensive thing they had in the arcade by a long shot, but it was probably the most affordable expensive item they had. 

“Yeah, but we have two thousand tickets lined up already,” Scott said. “We just gotta get the last thousand.”

“Today?” Louie asked skeptically. 

“Yep,” Mark shrugged. “Want to help?”

Louie paused for a moment before he nodded. “Yeah, sure.”

“Well, come on then,” Kenzie called, already a few games over. The boys all glanced at each other before hurrying to catch up to her. 

The next hour was spent with Louie going from machine to machine with them, inserting coins and winning every bonus. At some point, the others stopped playing the games, and instead followed him, cheering and collecting the tickets each time he won. The duckling grinned and cheered along with them, caught up in the fun of working towards something. 

After a while, Mark called for a break and guided them over to the seats, passing by a creepy and eerily life-like looking statue of Funzo. Louie tore his eyes away from it, trying to convince himself that it wasn’t watching him, to focus on the slide of pizza that was placed in front of him. 

The teens counted the tickets they had bundled up, and Louie watched eagerly as he took a bite of the pizza, leaning closer to the table. “Do you have enough?”

“Hold on, that’s..” Mark murmured, looking over the receipts that Scott had gotten from the ticket crunchers. 

Kenzie cheered suddenly, startling Louie as she slammed down another ticket receipt. “We’re just over three thousand!”

“That means you can get the MarkBox!” Louie cheered. “Just think of what you could get next time.”

They didn’t seem to hear him though, and he hurriedly stuffed the rest of the pizza into his mouth as he followed the group to the prize booth. 

Louie pressed close to the glass and watched as the MarkBox was handed over. He opened his mouth to ask for one of the Ottoman Empire keychains he’d spotted, remembering what Dewey had wanted from the claw machine, but he was cut off by Mark asking for a pack of gum in exchange for most of the leftover tickets. 

“You have ten tickets left,” The worker monotoned, and Louie turned, frozen as the teens began to leave with Scott clutching the box. 

“Wait,” He managed. “I thought I would get something with the extra.”

Mark took a piece of gum out of the package, and handed it over to Louie before turning towards the exit. “Yeah, I’ll see you both outside.”

“I’ll go with you,” Scott said, obviously uncomfortable, but Kenzie grabbed his arm and jerked her head towards Louie.

Louie pressed his fingers together, inexplicably feeling startled. “Or I could get one of your numbers so I could come over and play the MarkBox some time? Or we could meet up here again…”

“Er- look,” Scott sighed, relenting to Kenzie’s look. “We were just getting the MarkBox. We’ve been saving up for months, and we weren’t planning on coming back after we got it. Thanks for helping out, and all that.”

“That isn’t fair!” Louie snapped, stepping forward as Scott tried to retreat. “I won the last third of your tickets for you!”

“And you can get another thousand in no time, what with your ‘luck’ and your family’s money,” Scott shrugged. Louie froze again. He hadn’t realized he might have been recognized as Scrooge’s nephew. The duckling didn’t mind, but Uncle Scrooge wasn’t going to give him money just for arcade games.

“Besides,” Kenzie said as Scott finally left. “There’s ten more tickets left for you to use.”

“... Right.”

“Thanks, kid,” She said, and left. 

Louie stared after them, feeling very alone. “It’s… Louie.”

The duckling sighed and turned back to the counter, requesting one of the miniature slinkies with the last of the tickets. The keychain was too expensive, and he felt like he might be sick if he were to be faced with the colorful arcade games again. So he tucked the slinky into his pocket and went to seek out the others, guilt creeping in when he realized that he had more or less abandoned them. 

Louie came across Webby first. She was toting a younger girl on her back across the ball pit. 

“Oh!” She exclaimed, and the girl was dumped off, promptly sinking into the foam. “Louie! Hey! I’m over here!”

The green triplet walked over and waited for her to reach the edge. “Looks like you were having fun,” He deadpanned, but the effect was somewhat lost on Webby. 

“I guess. They were mostly using me to ride across on, I think. Apparently a kid once got lost down there,” She gave him a nervous grin. “So where are those kids you were with?”

He shook his head and changed the subject. “They left. Have you seen Huey or Dewey?”

“Oh yeah, Huey is right over…” Webby dove under foam blocks and pulled Huey out by the shirt. The duckling grabbed his hat and looked around wildly. 

“Is the guard back? Is he here?”

“No, it’s just your brother,” Webby giggled, and Louie waved. 

“Oh good. That guy is relentless,” Huey sighed in relief and laid his head on the edge of the ball pit. A smaller kid walked up to the pit and laid down like Huey was, drooling onto the floor. Huey shot back up, making noises of disgust.

“Yeah, sorry to leave you. Was Dewey hiding over here too?”

“I haven’t seen him,” Huey said, and Webby blinked and pointed. 

“Well I got out alright, no thanks to you guys,” Dewey huffed. Louie turned to watch him take a long sip from his drink. 

“Hi!” Webby said. 

Louie shrugged and looked away from him. “We can go get that Ottoman Empire plush you wanted.”

“Thanks, but I already got it,” His brother in blue replied, making him feel worse. “I went back when Huey was distracting the guy. It took a few tries, but apparently I have  _ way _ better aim than you do.”

“Right,” Louie sighed. 

“Is it time to go then?” Webby asked, pulling herself out of the pit. The boys looked around before agreeing and leaving for the bus stop. The guilt and sense of betrayal formed a pit in Louie’s stomach, and he pressed his face against the window seat, feeling selfish. He blocked out Huey’s observations on his luck, and watched as it began to rain outside. 

It was… fitting. 


	3. The Phone Is Ringing

“Uncle Gladstone,” Louie greeted as soon as the other picked up. He had been thinking pretty extensively about his luck. In fact, it was the only thing that the duckling had on his mind at any given time, unable to focus on anything else. It seemed like no matter where he went, the universe went out of its way to aid him- even if he didn’t need it!

Louie was well aware of the looks it earned him. Of how his brothers seemed alienated by his prizes when they returned back to Funzo's the next week, or how Uncle Donald froze up, agitated and tense (though he never said anything about it) whenever Louie won them a free meal. Even Webby and her friends gave him a bit of a berth, with Webby being distracted rather than malicious, and Lena  _ intimidated _ by how much magic he was supposedly giving off. Violet seemed the only one unaffected, more curious than anything else. 

They didn’t have to be malicious to hurt him, they just had to treat him differently. 

“Hey kid,” Gladstone answered. The sound of a car driving off made its way through the speakers, loud and jarring. Louie held the phone away for a moment up until Gladstone began to speak again. “You don’t usually call me this often. You have a school assignment or something?” He teased. 

“Well,” Louie said. “Well…”

“Oh, that’s it? I didn’t know you were back in school yet,” his uncle mused. The sound of another car driving by sounded. Then the screech of some wheels, and some honking. 

“Uh,” Louie screwed up his face at the noises. “Are you okay?”

“What? Oh, you can probably hear that, can’t you? I’m just crossing the road, is all.”

“It sounded more like a wreck,” the duckling accused. 

His uncle chuckled, but didn’t give him an answer. Well that was… Huh. Louie waited for a few minutes. He knew that Uncle Scrooge would complain about the phone bill if he ran it for too long, since the miser always seemed weirdly on top of their phone usage. Despite his age, and the fact that the old miser used the phone more often than Louie did. However, the duckling didn’t particularly care at the moment. Instead, he fiddled with the piece of paper in his pocket and listened to his luckiest uncle make his way through whatever city he had found his way to. When he was younger, Louie had called him every few weeks to ask about where he was and how he had gotten there. Then he and his brothers would beg Uncle Gladstone to send them presents. Once, when Uncle Donald had looked more amused than tired, he had told them to call him  _ Gladdy _ , and the gander had caved almost instantly. 

He couldn’t quite remember what he’d gotten in the mail the following week, though. Louie wondered if he would one day grow up to wander the earth. Aimless in intent, and jobless, held afloat only by what his luck deemed fit to give him. 

Or maybe he would just work on getting rich. 

“Alright,” Uncle Gladstone said, startling the duckling out of his thoughts. “It should be quieter here. Did you have something to ask me?”

“Where are you?” he asked, unable to form the right words for his real query. 

“Oh, you know,” his uncle somehow managed to verbally wave off his question. “I’m here and there. I  _ am _ out of the country right now, though. I’ll give you that much. But I doubt that was what you wanted to ask me, or maybe school assignments have simply gotten more boring.”

“This isn’t for school,” Louie sighed. “This is for… well.”

“Luck, again?” Gladstone guessed. Louie looked down at the pockets to his hoodie. 

“Is it that obvious?”

“It’s quite literally the only thing you’ve talked to me about in our last three or so chats,” came the response. Louie took a moment to try working out how many times he had met with his uncle since the invasion, or even  _ before _ that, and felt a bit guilty at how often the subject of luck came up. Even before Louie had gained it, it was really all he had talked to Gladstone about. It was all he ever heard  _ mentioned _ about Gladstone, aside from Uncle Donald’s mutterings.

“I’m sorry,” he promised, his voice coming out a bit more rough than usual, and his uncle made a noise. 

“That isn’t what I meant by it, Green-Bean. You can go ahead and ask your question.”

“It  _ isn’t _ okay,” Louie shot back. “It isn’t what  _ I _ would want to be remembered by! This  _ sucks _ , Uncle Gladstone. I don’t-”

“Hey,” Gladstone murmured. “Hey, it’s fine, kiddo. Why don’t you go find Donald? Or Del?”

“They can’t help me,” the duckling stressed. 

“Alright. Sure. Your siblings? That Vanderquack kid?”

“No, no, no. They can’t help me.  _ You _ can,” he held his phone close, fearful of anybody overhearing. Louie squeezed the paper in his hand and tried not to think about how hard he was shaking. “Uncle Scrooge says there's a way for me to get rid of it.”

There was a long pause. 

“My luck,” he clarified weakly. 

There was a short laugh on the other end, and Louie curled in on himself, sinking his hands into the softness of his hoodie. He waited for Uncle Gladstone to get mad, to get upset at him for not wanting luck, to tell Louie to  _ be more like him _ -

“Do you want to?” his uncle asked, breaking through his thoughts. Louie struggled with the question for a long minute, floundering under the weight of the responsibility that the question alluded to. “Don’t think too hard about it. You haven’t consciously had this luck for long. It would be just like going back to- well. To normal.”

Louie swallowed and considered the question. 

Then he fixed his gaze somewhere on the wall. “I don’t know.”

“Well that's fine,” Uncle Gladstone said brightly. 

“It’s not, I… It’s hard,” the duckling sniffed. Then he felt horribly betrayed by his own bodily functions. Even if he had cried in front of Gladstone before, he was the  _ cool _ uncle. The one who wasn’t supposed to see you as anything other than the cool nephew who he could respect because he hadn’t been there with you during your worst moments. 

“I’m not good at this,” came the filtered through voice of his uncle, a bit distant and distracted. The green-clad duckling doubted he was supposed to have heard it. Then, more clearly, his uncle continued. “Did something happen?”

Hesitantly, Louie relayed the important bits of his day at Funzo's. He tried to play it off, joking a bit about how he was still a bit too young to be hanging out with the big kids or whatever adults said about stuff like that, but he couldn’t help the shaky quality of his words.

“-But it wouldn’t work for Dewey at all. So maybe it’s on the fritz or something...” Louie concluded lamely. 

His uncle didn’t sound surprised. “That’s because you did it for somebody else. Your luck works for you and you alone.”

“It worked to help the other kids,” Louie disagreed. 

“That’s because you thought you were going to get to play it with them. Blue’s toy didn’t get you anything, so you didn’t get the toy.”

“But that’s selfish,” the duckling said. He wasn’t above being selfish, not in the slightest, but that was for  _ money _ . And Louie was  _ working towards it _ . “And sure, I’ve got Louie-inc, but it’s gonna be a whole company. And I wasn’t doing that for the kids just because I wanted something.”

“You weren’t,” Uncle Gladstone said slowly. “But that’s the only reason your luck was working for you.”

“So it’s selfish.”

“I guess so.”

Louie sat down against the wall of the spare room he was in and took out the paper, unfolding it between his fingers. “You told me not to end up like you.”

“This sounds more like you just needed to bounce some ideas off a wall.”

Louie hugged his knees, muffling anymore sniffling. “Would you get rid of your luck?”

“No,” his uncle replied instantly. It wasn’t quite a snap at him, but it came close in intensity. Louie made to talk before his uncle made a thoughtful noise. The duck backed off, listening for a long while. It started to sound like it was raining on the other end. “Well… how old are you?”

Louie replied quietly.

“I would have,” Uncle Gladstone said. “At your age, I would have gotten rid of it.”

Louie thought about the arcade. How readily Gladstone had been able to answer his inquiry about how his magic had worked during it. How soon he was to agree that it was  _ selfish _ . “And now?” He prompted. 

“Well, I’m rather reliant on it now. Ask any of your uncles.”

“What would Uncle Fethry say?” Louie asked, recalling how they had been together during the invasion of the Moonlanders. 

“Fethry is my favorite cousin,” Uncle Gladstone claimed with absolute certainty. The duckling gave a huff of amusement and sat back a bit. 

“So… you wouldn’t be mad if I got rid of it?” He had to make certain that it wasn’t a mistake. 

“It’s up to you,” came the unhelpful reply. “But I won’t be upset or anything. Really though, talk to the twins before you go off wherever Uncle Scrooge wants to take you.”

“I wish you’d give me a straight answer,” Louie sighed. 

His uncle tisked. “Be careful with those.”

“Huh?”

“Wishes.”

“Oh. Sure,” he murmured, and slipped the paper back into his pocket. The duckling rubbed his face and turned the phone away briefly so he could make a gross post-crying noise without it being too annoying or jostling for the person on the other end. Then he held it back up to his face. “Thanks.”

“That sounds gross, kiddo. Anytime.”

_____________________________

“Uncle Scrooge?” he called after knocking on the loud, echoing door. The faint sound of his uncle calling for him to come in permeated through the door, and Louie pushed it open. He slipped inside, and let the wooden door close behind him, heavy and old. Then he walked up to his uncle's desk.

“Can I help ye, lad?”

“When’s our next adventure?”


End file.
